Slayer of Dragons
by SpartAl412
Summary: In the time following the defeat of Alduin, Harkon and Miraak, the Dragonborn finds himself contemplating his next greatest challenge. Unknown to this hero who is bound by fate, his destiny will become intertwined with those from another realm and soon the mightiest of Dragonslayers will have a whole different breed of foes to slay.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: Skyrim storyline spoilers ahead.**

* * *

How fickle the twisted skeins of fate are, was the thought Farseer Thelanria of Craftworld Iyanden's House of Valor. To see into it and divine future was a perilous and necessary thing for in it one could see many things such as hope, despair, doom and salvation. And yet no matter what course of action one would take, it would only be a temporary reprieve before the next crisis rears up.

The Farseer was garbed in a set of yellow and blue wraithbone armour and robes which were etched with various psychic runes. Some such as those upon her helmet and gauntlets were meant to assist in channeling her psychic abilities while others provided protection and defense. Sheathed to the left side of her belt was a Witchblade that came in the form of a sword and in her right hand, she held onto a Witchstaff that served as a more potent focus for her abilities.

Taking a deep sigh and feeling so very tired, the Farseer stoically went back to her work. She stood within a circle of carefully prepared glyphs and runes, each one part of a ritual that would activate the ancient defenses of this temple. Surrounded by ancient stones that have stood for countless eons, she could not help but feel so small and insignificant in this place for it had been built by those who had uplifted her species so long ago.

So many secrets lay within this place, ancient knowledge that could never fall in the hands of the lesser races, especially like those of the _Mon'keigh_ who now besieged this place. A tremor reverberated through the stone walls as an explosive detonated upon the temple's outer layers. The defensive Support Platforms which the Bonesingers had placed would not last under the relentless assault of the two _Mon'keigh_ forces that battled for dominion over the temple.

Defeating them was never her objective from the beginning for such a campaign would have come at an unnecessary cost of precious Eldar lives. The Farseer only needed to stall them long enough to complete her ritual. Sitting down within the runic circle, she rested her staff upon her lap and she placed a delicate hand within a pouch on the side of her waist and from it, she removed a small, silvery icon that somewhat resembled the crystalline spiders that resided within the webway.

The Spider Icon was beautiful little thing with a glowing white crystal placed in its thorax, its true beauty though came from what it was capable of. It was a key, of sorts, capable of opening paths within the webway as well as beyond it and transporting large objects or even several things towards its destination. It could also be used to create a sort of prison, to trap something within an impenetrable barrier for all eternity, some which the Farseer was preparing to do.

Placing the Icon upon the palm of her right hand, the Farseer then began to channel psychic energy into the object and causing the crystal to glow even brighter. Once the clashing forces were trapped, she would only have the briefest of windows to escape into the webway and avoid sharing the same fate as the _Mon'keigh_. With iron-bound concentration forged from many long passes of training, the Farseer continued to pour more energy within the Icon until finally, it softly hummed with power that was almost ready to be unleashed.

Just a little more now thought the Seer but when it all seemed clear, she felt a disturbance in the Warp itself and two psychic presences began to batter against her mental defenses. Both were the crude yet mighty psykers among the _Mon'keigh_ whose physical bodies were clad in suites of formidable powered armour. Catching glimpses of the two psykers, she saw that one wore armour of deepest black with the insignia of a white wyrm upon his pauldron while the other psyker was a corrupt and tainted thing, sworn to the Dark Gods.

'_Do not think we know not what your plan is witch!_' mentally roared the Black armoured Psyker, a Librarian of the Astartes '_this world is the Emperor's now! And as soon I am finished with you, the heretics are next!_'

'_You overestimate yourself, loyalist dog! I will send your soul screaming to the Dark Gods after this xeno wench is finished_' came the voice of the Chaos Sorcerer whose armour was adorned in red scales and he also launched a psychic assault upon the Farseer's mind.

Unable to concentrate upon the Icon as the two psykers continued to assail her, Thelanria felt a measure of their own powers enter the device and her eyes widened in horror for what they had unknowingly done. The white crystal within the Icon became blood red and it began to emit a dread glow as it locked on to some unknown destination. The Farseer attempted to alter its course and salvage the situation but with the two_ Mon'keigh_ still battering against her mental defenses, Thelanria found that such a thing was impossible.

Soon the glow brightened and a feeling similar to the phase-shifting devices of the Warp Spider Exarchs fell upon her. The Farseer became ethereal as her physical essence partly left this plane and she could sense that those of the _Mon'keigh_ suffered a similar thing. In a matter of moments, the Farseer and the two armies disappeared, leaving nothing but silence in their wake.

* * *

Night had fallen across the lands of Tamriel where up in the sky above, the twin moons and the stars lit the way of travelers. Snow fell across the peaks of the Throat of the World as a strong wind howled upon its frost covered slopes. The still forms of mighty dragons rested upon its icy crags with their leader, a wise, grey scaled wyrm maintained a calm and silent vigil.

Each of the ancient wyrms that now resided here were among those who followed the way of Paarthunax, to meditate and overcome their own destructive nature. An uneasy sort of peace had now existed between the dragons and the _Joor_, the mortals that inhabited the lands of Skyrim. While there were some who still chose to bring ruin and destruction towards the _Joor_ as they once had, those dragons were now few and in hiding for the one they all feared still walked the world.

Camped under the meager shelter of an ancient stone wall that was etched with archaic glyphs from a lost age, there rested a lone figure who sat in deep meditation. He was garbed in ensorcelled armor that was forged from the scales of fallen dragons; a mace made from the bones of the same creatures lay near him while a campfire burned in front of him. The flames crackled and danced as they gave off a comforting warmth that was not truly needed by the stranger for the armor he wore provided protection against the elements.

Tied to his belt were a small number of leather pouches and containers which carried a variety of different objects. Some carried gold, food and other provisions which were necessary while traveling. Others also contained alchemical potions and elixirs which he himself had brewed for those just in case situations.

His almond shaped eyes opened to reveal a pair of golden orbs that reflected the light of the flames in front of him. With flesh and hair that were also of a golden color albeit in different shades, the stranger may probably have even looked liked a statue had it not been for the mist of cold air that escaped his lips. He was an Altmer, a High Elf from the Summerset Isles, once he had been a sell-sword who had barely been scraping by and now, by all the strange luck in the world, he was now, a hero.

Dragonborn was the name the Nords called him, a hero born with the soul of a dragon. It was all very well and amusing at first but after that first battle with the wyrms and the adventures that had followed, he had learned to embrace what he was. Among the Dragons, he was called _Dovahkiin_, to quite a number of Deadric Princes, he was known as a Champion, to many of the Jarls and the people of Skyrim, he was known as a Thane, to those closest to him though he was simply known as Eldine.

It was quite odd really how things changed so much in a mere span of two years, a blink of an eye to one who came from a race so long lived as the Altmer. When he looked back to that fateful night in Bruma when he drunkenly wondered whether he should make his luck in Skyrim or Morrowind, he could not quite decided whether it was the best or the worst decision of his life for there had been so many hardships in his travels. And now here he was, atop a mountain surrounded by creatures of myth and legend and down the mountain, he had a warm home with many friends waiting for him.

Fate was such an odd thing, thought the Dragonborn for despite all he had been through, despite the pain, the sweat, the blood and tears, it had all worked out. And yet now the greatest challenge now lay before him. What was he to do now?

The Civil War still raged on and without the dragons rampaging around as they once had, the armies of the Empire and Stormcloaks had begun to escalate their engagements. He was not really surprised that the peace between the two groups did not last and he felt rather conflicted over what some of his other actions over the course of his travels had ended up contributing to in the war. His brief alliance with Madanach in Cidnha Mine for example had led the Forsworn to begin making great strides in claiming sections of the Reach and it now seemed that they would soon be ready to lay siege to Markarth.

There was also the ongoing situation of the orc strongholds getting all riled up about taking back old Orsinium in High Rock and some riots down in Windhelm over the continued deplorable conditions which the Dunmenr were forced to live in. There was also the Thalmor who were still going about with their witch hunts and cracking down on Talos worship. Absolutely hating politics and remembering why he became a sell-sword in the first place, he especially also hated how people expected him to solve all of their problems now.

He honestly wished that something like another vampire lord with an army of undead or a power hungry dragon priest would start causing trouble again. With a sigh, he supposed that it was perhaps a bit selfish of him to even think such for it was probably better that now it's just people fighting other people for the usual things. Maybe he should go look for some lair full of Falmer or a Draugr infested barrow, just so he had something to do.

As he contemplated on what to do next, he noted one of the dragons, _Mullahyah_, bring up his orange scaled head and begin sniffing the air.

'What is it? What do you smell _Mullahyah_' called Eldine towards the dragon.

'Strange magic, _Dovahkiin_' rumbled the dragon and the more academic part of Eldine was greatly intrigued for the Revered Dragon seemed to have quite the knack for finding powerful magical items or some of the occasional anomalies that still remained after that whole Eye of Magnus incident with the College of Winterhold.

'More treasure then?' asked the High Elf with a hint of curiosity and perhaps a bit of avarice.

'I do not know, but it may be worth investigating, no?' asked the dragon a bit eagerly for the two of them had a bit of an agreement. Sometimes, Eldine would enlist the Dragon's assistance in finding treasure and when they did, _Mullahyah_ kept half while the Dragonborn kept the other.

Smiling towards the Dragon, Eldine nodded and rose up with a slightly rising sense of excitement within him.

* * *

Blinded by the flash of light that engulfed him, Battle Brother Tahraka of the Black Dragons placed his gauntleted hands over his helmet and he lifted it up. Hearing the hiss as the air within escaped his helmet, he immediately became rather puzzled when he felt the kiss of cold air upon his bare cheeks. It was just outright sweltering a few minutes ago when he had been battling the traitorous heretics and had been forced to put his helmet back on when reports came in of cultists hurling canisters of toxic gas.

The smell was all wrong too he immediately realized for instead of dry sand, dust, fyceline and blood, he smelled grass, trees and plants. Gently rubbing his eyes with his armored fingers, his vision then returned to him and his eyes widened in surprise for he did not see the bright orange sunlight of the planet he had been fighting on, instead he saw a night sky with two moons and countless unfamiliar stars shining down upon him. Where in the Emperor's name was he? Thought the Space Marine as he placed his helmet back on and he operated the vox-system of his power armour.

He soon felt relieved to find living signals from the suits of his battle brothers, quite a lot of them were scattered around this region with a couple being only a few kilometers away. An arrow marker appeared on his helmet's HUD, pointing to the location of the Brother Captain and several squad leaders. He briefly attempted to establish contact with the Battle Barge, but got nothing from the ship.

Not quite sure about what just happened, the Black Dragon decided to figure it out once he regroups with the others. Looking about to see if his Bolter Gun was around, he quickly spotted the weapon lying on the grass close to him. Moving towards the trusty weapon that had served him well for many battles, he ejected the ammo clip and found that he still had more than half of the rounds remaining. A sudden flash of light flared up from behind him and the Space Marine turned around in time to see something fall to the ground.

As he took a step forward to see what it was, he suddenly heard a loud bestial roar from the sky above and his eyes widened in surprise to see what was coming at him. In the many years he had been in service to the God Emperor, Tahraka had faced more than his fair share of monstrous foes from Tyranid Harridans, Greenskin Squiggoths and even the massive Knarlocs of the Kroots, yet none matched the dread majesty of this creature of myth and legend. Flying upon leathery wings and covered in scales of bright orange, he saw humanoid figure riding upon its reptilian and with his augmented eyes, he thought 'is that an Eldar?'

His company must have ended up on one of those worlds inhabited by the more primitive breeds of Eldar. If such were the case then they would soon be up to their necks with the more technologically advanced ones. Leveling his bolt gun up to the sky while taking aim, Tahraka sighted down on the great beast and its xeno rider for there was only one fate which the alien deserved.

* * *

'Over there _Dovahkiin_!' shouted _Mullahyah _towards a section of the grassy plains of the Whiterun Hold area.

It had been a while since he had bothered to try riding upon the back of a dragon and each time he tried, it always felt exhilarating. Raising his right hand up and whispering a spell that generated a blue light to appear above his palm, he saw the very life energies of multiple living beings below him from bears, wolves, sabre cats, rabbits, and two vaguely humanoid forms. Best he get down now he thought for most people still got rather nervous at the sight of the dragons.

'Land over there, near the trees!' shouted Eldine towards _Mullahyah_ who descended close to a copse of dead trees. As they came closer to the ground, Eldine heard a loud _dak-dak_ from the ground and he saw two bright bolts flying towards him and the dragon. _Mullahyah_ roared in pain as the bolts struck his right wing which was instantly shredded by small explosions. 'Gods!' shouted Eldine in surprise as the dragon plummeted to the ground and he deeply inhaled and he shouted 'FEIM ZII GRON!'

The Dragonborn's body soon became ethereal and he leapt off of the dragon. He landed upon the ground without any harm but _Mullahyah_ had not been so lucky for the dragon crashed loudly into the earth and carved a deep furrow, he would have to use his healing magic upon the dragon later but for now, he needed to see what had attacked them. He quickly whispered a trio of spells; the first was an older version of the Detect Life spell which was then followed by Muffle and Invisibility.

As soon as he disappeared, he saw the massive, lumbering figure draw closer to the dragon. Creeping closer to it, he first heard the heavy steps of its metallic feet and the hisses of mechanical components like those within the Centurion Animunculi of the Dwemer. Yet through his detect life spell, he could see that there was a living being inside of it.

Was the person wearing something like Dwemer armor? He thought as he studied this strange warrior, whose armor was as black as midnight and he noticed large metallic blades protruding from back part of the warrior's gauntlets. He also noticed the rather heavy looking weapon which the black armored figure carried and it somewhat resembled a crossbow but only slightly, he also noticed a strange looking, blocky sword sheathed on the side of the warrior's belt, it had several metal spikes running along the edge.

Well whatever was the case, he had a strong feeling that it was not friendly. Whispering another pair of spells, Eldine's hands glowed with an arcane light and he extended both his hands to the side and twin spheres of light materialized around him. The massive warrior swiftly turned around in time as two voices shouted 'YOU MEET YOUR END MORTAL!' and 'NO ESCAPE!'

Two Dremora Lords rushed towards the warrior with burning Daedric Greatswords, one was swiftly cut down by the heavy weapon which the black armored warrior carried but the other Daedra chopped his blade down and there was a loud screech of metal as the burning weapons struck the pauldron of the warrior. Quickly pulling out his mace which was imbued with the Chaos and Paralysis enhcantments, he slammed the head of his weapon against the side of the massive warrior's right thigh and it felt like he had just hit an anvil. The black armored warrior collapsed to the ground as the paralyzing effects of his mace took place and he began to further smash his weapon against its baleful, red eyed helmet while the remaining Dremora Lord slashed his great sword into the section of its armor that would have protected the abdomen.

'Get that helmet off!' shouted Eldine and the Dremora Lord reluctantly obeyed for the Dragonborn was not even sure if they were even harming the warrior.

The Dremora Lord then went towards the warrior's head and stabbed the blade into the ground before forcibly attempting to pull the helmet off and what Eldine saw, caused him to further question what these giants. It looked to be a human man but with two sharp horns sprouting from the warrior's forehead, The Dremora Lord then retrieved his greatsword and with a single mighty swing, he decapitated the prone, horned warrior's head. Wondering to the gods exactly what he just encountered, he then heard another loud _dak_ and the Dremora Lord was blown off of his feet.

Suppressing the urge to shout a profanity, he swiftly cast Invisibility again before disappearing into the night.

* * *

'Brother Tahraka is down! I repeat! Brother Tahraka is down!' said Tactical Sergeant Korre as he spoke into his vox-unit.

Smoke rose from the barrel of his bolt pistol as he noticed the body of the one he had shot disappeared and in all of his years of combat experience as a Space Marine, his instincts told him that he had just shot a daemon. He had been able to catch a glimpse of the other figure that had slain the sergeant and it looked almost like an Eldar, but that was not right, he thought, the foul aliens psyker witches were supposed also enemies of the Daemons. Not really having time to contemplate on it, he looked back to Brothers Lorne and Varro and ordered them to spread out.

The two Tactical Marines obeyed and they lifted up their bolt guns as they hunted for the killer of their Battle Brother. Cold wind continued to blow against his exposed face as the Sergeant heard the fluttering of the banner that he carried upon his back. He looked left and right, searching for their target who seemed to have just disappeared and his instincts told him that witchery was at work here.

A loud sharp crack light lightning suddenly came from a position west of them and Korre turned to face in that direction with his pistol raised. His eyes widened as he saw a white bolt of electricity flying towards his face and he did not have time to react before it stuck against the sergeant and causing his flesh to cook and char before dissolving into dust.

* * *

Crouching low as lightning crackled from the fingertips of the Dragonborn, he felt the effects of his Destruction Elixir course through his veins and further empowering his already considerable arcane might. He saw that two more of the massive black armored warriors who still stood their ground and he was fairly sure that they too would have been hostile, even if had he not killed that first one. His hands then glowed with an arcane light again and he cast the spells of Muffle and Invisibility once more.

Glad to have had the foresight to bring a pair of enchanted rings and an amulet (all of which he personally imbued) which greatly assisted with general spell-casting, Eldine moved closer towards his foes who still searched for him. As he drew closer to one of the black armored warriors with his enchanted mace still in hand, he saw something move swiftly towards the other warrior with a gleaming blade in hand. The black armored warriors quickly reacted to whatever it was and Eldine took the opportunity to slam his mace upon the armored back of his target's knee.

The warrior collapsed to the ground as frost began to coat the plates that protected him and Eldine swung his mace down again and smacking the right arm of warrior. The black armored figure remained still as the paralyzing effects took place again and he began to channel the spell of Icy Spear in his left hand. The Icy Spear materialized around Eldine's left hand and at point black range, he cast it towards where the warrior's neck should be and he heard the loud screeching of metal as the empowered piece of frost punctured the black plate armor.

Looking to see the other remaining warrior, he saw the black armored figure collapse to the ground with another figure standing before it. From what he could see, this one was female judging by the design of her armor which was colored with yellow plates, blue cloth, glowing runes and a strangely pointed helmet. Baleful red eyes like those from the black armored warrior's helmets regarded him without any visible expression and he could see that she carried a glowing sword and a staff, a fellow mage he wondered?

The armored woman then began to speak to him in an unknown foreign tongue that sounded similar to Aldmeri. Speaking to the woman in the tongue commonly used within the Summerset Isles, the woman did not seem to understand his words, nor did he understand her own. Softly cursing and contemplating the phrase "be careful what you wish for" the Dragonborn warily lowered his mace and he went towards where _Mullahyah_ had fallen.

* * *

Taking a series of deep breaths as she allowed herself a moment to calm the mind, Farseer Thelanria cautiously gazed towards the golden eyed stranger who looked almost like an Exodite. Swinging her sword to the side and causing the disgusting _Mon'keigh_ blood to fly away from her blade, the Farseer tried to think about her situation. She was on a different planet to be sure, where though, she had no idea and was more worrisome was the lack of the Warp itself.

For the first time in the Farseer's long life, she could not feel the essence of the Warp around her. To no longer feel it was as if she had lost one of her own senses such as sight or hearing. The only thing that brought her some measure of comfort was that she could no longer feel the constant, dread presence of She Who Thirsts.

It was a small mercy but one that hardly helped her current situation. She then looked to the Exodite who went towards a massive serpentine creature which to her surprise, resembled the dragons of myth and legend. The Exodite continued to look over his shoulder and towards her, as if expecting her to stab him in the back.

The Farseer's lips slightly curled with annoyance but she remained silent and watchful for any other _Mon'keigh_ who may be around. It was worrisome that they were also here for if such were the case, what of the Chaos aligned ones? Shuddering at the thought of having to face both Space Marines and Chaos Space Marines without an army at her back, the Farseer decided to quickly try to leave this world as soon as possible.

Reaching into the pouch where she would often keep small wraith-bone runes, she removed the Spider Icon again and was displeased to see that the crystal within no longer glowed with power. She would need to find a safe place to rest and recuperate before attempting to us it again and for now it seemed that she would have to count on the hospitality of the Exodite who didn't even speak a proper form of Eldarin. Looking again to the Exodite, her eyes widened with surprise underneath her helmet when she saw a golden light emanate from his hands and she saw that light infuse the dragon as well.

Her surprise was furthered enhanced when she heard the dragon verbally speak to the Exodite in a deep, rumbling tongue. The Exodite then called to her, he spoke in a tongue which sounded more like one of the crude human speeches. The Farseer was not familiar with the guttural grunts of the _Mon'keigh_ and she thought of only one way which she could communicate with the Exodite.

Keeping her composure while sheathing her sword, the Farseer beckoned for the Exodite to come closer and he cautiously did so. Lifting up her Ghosthelm which gave a soft hiss as the air from within escaped, the Farseer saw the Exodite lift his helmet as well and again she was surprised to see that his flesh was golden in colour. The dragon then rumbled something and the stranger looked to it for a moment before turning his gaze back to her with a worried look.

Having a strong feeling that it would be more Space Marines, the Farseer knew that they had to flee for now. The dragon then took flight with a strong gust of wind and a mighty roar into the open sky, she then looked to the stranger who had sheathed his mace and was now whispering some unknown ritual with ghostly spheres of light glowing around his hands. The stranger then launched a sphere of this light towards one of the slain Space Marines and to both her her surprise and revulsion, she saw the body rise up with a ghostly light surrounding the dead _Mon'keigh_.

The Stranger then did the same to another body which also rose from the eternal slumber of death. The Farseer warily looked towards the stranger who then pulled out a small blue bottle from a pouch attached to his belt and he quaffed down some unknown elixir. The stranger then nodded to her and he gestured for her to follow him.

The Farseer's mind was filled with questions towards this stranger and his unusual power which she could tell did not stem from the Warp itself. Quietly contemplating her current situation, Farseer Thelanria began to wonder about the nature of fate and why she had not even foreseen this most unusual series of events.


	2. Chapter 2

Cold sand fell from the starry night sky above as Qa-dar looked upwards to the heavens and despite the chill which cut deeply into him; he found it to be quite beautiful to see. He wore an old fashioned style of leather armor that he had picked up in Cyrodiil and he was equipped with twin steel shortswords which rested within their sheaths. Adjusting the leather helmet he wore and suppressing a sleepy yawn, the sell-sword kept his senses alert for any danger to the caravan.

From distant Elswyr he had come, under the employment of a merchant who claimed that business was very good in the land of Skyrim. Although he was not a trader, Qa-dar could tell that his caravan was doing rather well for the human soldiers, whether it be the Imperials, the rebel Nords who called themselves Stormcloaks, the occassional traveler or adventurer, were usually eager to spend what coin they had on the wares they carried. Some items such as potions and food were popular for practical reasons; others such as amulets dedicated to the Eight Divines were also in demand by the more superstitious ones who likely hoped that the gods would grant them, some protection.

If there was one thing he did not like about the journey though, it was reception of the local Nords whose attitudes seemed colder than the white sand which fell from the sky. More than once, they had been held up by the Nord guardsmen who accused them of selling Skooma (he honestly never understood why other races make it illegal in their lands) and were forced to comply. Not all of them were bad, but it had happened way too many times already and Qa-dar would not be surprised if it happened again.

Glancing over his right shoulder to look at one of his fellow guards, Razzhiir who was dressed like a Redguard and carrying a bow, he noted with some worry, the alertness in the archer's posture.

'Is something out there?' whispered Qa-dar as he instinctively touched the hilts of his twin blades for more than once, they had been attacked by bandits who thought them to be easy prey.

'I smell something…' whispered Razzhiir as he turned his head about with ears straightened and Qa-dar began to sniff the cold air as well.

There was something in the air, something akin to the oil which was used to prevent rust but it was mixed with others things as well. It was something which was unknown to him and he tried to follow the smell to some, general direction before he saw a something massive moving in the distance, across the white sand filled ground.

'Do you see that?' came the feminine voice of Shavari, a healer and alchemist who joined them while they were passing by Bravil. She was a fairly attractive maiden who was close to Qa-dar's age and he had been trying to woo her during their travels.

Drawing his two blades, he heard the clattering of plates behind him and he glanced back to see Madaar, a rather large and burly warrior who was fully encased in steel armor which was also of a cyrodilic design. Madaar was a veteran warrior who had fought in the Great War but which side he had fought on, he never said but the old cat was a pleasant enough who knew how to look intimidating enough to dissuade would be thieves. Drawing the enchanted greatsword which was sheathed upon his back, Madaar then rested it over his right shoulder before going ahead, as usual, to see if this newcomer was friendly or not.

'Hail there!' shouted Madaar as he waved a gauntleted hand at whatever it was in the distance, his accent spoke of one who had spent most of his life outside of Elswyr.

The large thing then stopped and at a closer, he saw two large, baleful red eyes which gazed upon them. His palms began to itch and he felt the fur along his spine rise up as he received a terrible gut feeling that whatever the dark thing was, it definitely was not friendly. Qa-dar was unfortunately proven correct for he heard a loud _dak_ sound and he saw a bright bolt of light, suddenly fly towards Madaar from the dark thing and veteran warrior was knocked off of his feet as blood blossomed from a horrendous wound upon his chest.

Shavari screamed in horror and Razzhiir swiftly drew an arrow from his quiver. The large dark thing with hellish red eyes then began to advance towards them and as it got closer, Qa-dar was able to get a better look at the thing. It was a monstrous creature with skin that looked to be of black metal with sharp blades protruding from its wrists and two great horns rose up from its skull.

It took Qa-dar a moment to realize that it was actually some strange suite of heavy armor, ebony? He wondered as he saw upon the thing's right pauldron, an insignia depicting a white painted dragon. The thing which killed Madaar loudly shouted in a booming voice and he heard a strange, roaring sound from a blunt-looking, rectangular weapon it carried.

Despite all of his skill, all of his speed and wits, Qa-dar and every member of the merchant caravan who had traveled all the way here to Skyrim in search of fortune had instead, found only death from a being that was quite literally, out of this world.

* * *

Glaring down upon the bloodied carcasses that lay around him, Brother Lahar, Assault Marine of the Black Dragons felt nothing but contempt for the creatures he had slain. They were some horrid hybrid of Man and felines that blasphemously imitated the way a human should walk and they dressed in a manner which resembled the fashions of those who lived on feudal worlds. His chainsword dripped with their unclean blood and the Space Marine wondered if he had slain some truly tainted form of mutant like the Beastmen which (mostly but now always) combined the physical traits of Men and Goats.

Regardless, the Imperium's Creed on such matters were clear for creatures such as the alien were to be killed, the mutant, burned and the unclean, purged. It puzzled the Space Marine that such creatures could move so openly for he saw the cart which they travelled with and the various goods it carried which would be of some value to the common citizenry of the Imperium. Could the planet he and his company had landed on, be some backwards place filled with heathens who had never even heard of the Imperial Creed?

It was possible for the galaxy was a large place and he would not be surprised if the Imperium had only colonized a small fraction of the planets within the Milky Way. He did not spend much time to dwell on it for upon the HUD of his helmet, he saw the locations of his nearest battle brothers. No lifesigns were detected from Brothers Varro, and Lorne and yet they were on the move along with Sergeants Korre and Tahraka.

If whatever had killed them taken the bodies then they must be reclaimed for geneseed extraction and their wargear could not be allowed to be desecrated. With bloodied chainsword still drawn, he swore to the Emperor that when he found whatever had killed them, he would make it eat is boltgun before pulling the trigger.

* * *

Softly humming the song, Ragnar the Red, Lydia gently stirred the contents within a metal cauldron which was filled with fresh vegetables that had just been harvested from the garden along with many generous chunks of meat. Gentle fires both of a natural and sorcerous source banished the constant cold of the Pale and it made Heljarchen Hall as pleasant as a warm summer day. She wore brown colored fine clothing and leather gloves, each of which had been given some minor enchantment, like almost everything else people wore in this house.

From the basement below, she could hear the faint sounds of hammers clanging upon anvils as the others worked their own craft for the Dragonborn had a habit of often bringing back an inordinately large number of items such as ingots of various metals, leathers, animal hides, gems, raw food and other objects which could be used to make something. All in all, it had become a very peaceful life which she enjoyed and whenever things became a little boring, her Thane encouraged her or the others to go out and do a little adventuring on their own. Using a wooden ladle to scoop up a bit of the stew, she sipped it and decided it needed a just a few more minutes.

'Lydia!' suddenly came the familiar voice of her Thane, Eldine from behind her.

Stepping away from the cooking cauldron and taking the ladle with her, Lydia turned around to see her Thane and her eyes widened when she saw a most unusual figure accompanying him. Behind her Thane was a pale skinned, red haired elf woman with a red jewel upon her forehead. The other elf was wearing an outlandish looking set of bright yellow and blue armor which was mixed with cloth garments with arcane runes blazing upon it and she saw the staff and sword which made the Housecarl think that her Thane had brought back home a wizard.

It would not be the first time her Thane had brought back a complete stranger for there had been multiple people such as the two Dunmer priests, the sell-sword in chitin armor who never seemed to take off his equipment, multiple orcs, the various vampire hunters along with their attack dogs, the witch, that Breton woman who seemed to give people predatory looks, the vampire sorceress and simply way too many others. Lydia saw the look of surprise which was immediately followed by contempt and disdain from the elf woman as she laid eyes upon the Housecarl along with the general surroundings.

Maintaining her composure, Lydia calmly then spoke and warmly greeted 'Honored to see you again my Thane, welcome home…'

* * *

Looking upon the black haired human female with surprise and disdain, Farseer Thelanria felt more of the former for she had not expected her current host… this Eldine to not only be living in some crude, primitive structure of a clearly clumsy human design but was actually living alongside _Mon'keigh_! Her host spoke to human female he called Lydia and they exchanged words in a friendly manner before pointing to the outside of the structure where the two undead Space Marines stood guard.

The human female then turned away from Eldine and began shouting something in a guttural variation of the _Mon'keigh_ language and she heard the muffled sounds metal upon metal cease. There was then the sound of thudding from another chamber beneath them and she heard the creaking of wood which was followed by footsteps. Again to the Eldar seer's surprise, she saw more humans of either male or female gender coming out from a back room with each one wearing a leather apron and lathered in sweat.

Like the black haired female who had greeted them, the others gave curious looks to the Farseer before Eldine gently called to their attentions and he spoke something before gesturing to the doorway outside where two of the… undead Space Marines were standing guard over the bodies of the other two dead ones. The humans quickly obeyed Eldine and one of them, a blonde haired female went to a crude wooden staircase to the Seer's right where her footsteps could be heard from above. After a few seconds, the blonde haired female returned with a small box which she presented towards Eldine and the Farseer slightly tilted her head to see what was inside.

What she saw were several pieces of silver jewelry which were inlaid with gems and each of the humans took two rings and a necklace from it. After putting on the pieces of jewelry, they went outside in an orderly manner and the Seer heard one of the males loudly swear something in surprise. Looking back, she then saw them leading the undead Space Marines to somewhere on the side.

Eldine then looked to the black haired human female and he bade her to do something which she immediately obeyed before turning around and going to wherever it was where the other humans had first come from. Thelanria's host then turned his attention towards her and the eldar-like being then gestured towards wooden chair by a long table and the Seer gave a polite nod before taking a seat. Her host then moved towards a large metal pot which was being heated by a primitive cooking apparatus of stone where clearly something was being prepared.

Allowing her host to tend to whatever was cooking; the Farseer then surveyed the building and was worried that it would not prove to be very defensible should the Space Marines track them here. Despite the lack of the Warp, the Seer could still use certain powers such as telepathy and being able to sense the minds of lesser creatures. At the very least though, she was in a warm place, a vast improvement from the chill outside but it brought up the question of where the warmth was emanating from for she doubted that the two primitive fire pits she had seen would be enough to banish the cold.

Switching to her Spiritsight, the Farseer immediately found several complex patterns of arcane energy which had been woven into the stones of the structure and she could sense a vast number of nearby items which radiated power with their own potent power. The Farseer became rather curious for in her lifetime, she had met one other figure who was quite fond of collecting powerful and often even obscure alien artifacts of immense power. She had no doubt that the old Corsair Prince would have taken a great interest in this place had he been here in her place.

She wondered if those Mon'keigh were servants to her host for the Corsair she knew well of had also employed human servants, slaves and mercenaries into his warband along with other lesser species. Her host then returned with a ceramic bowl in his hands and she could smell something inside it which actually was rather pleasant. The Farseer supposed that at the least, she can use this place to rest and recover for the time being before attempting to empower the Spider Icon again.

* * *

'Okay, 1, 2, 3' spoke the gravelly voice Argis the Bulwark as he, Gregor and Valdimar lifted up the headless corpse of a black armored giant like the ones which stood guard.

The three men grunted and began to sweat for even with the enchanted rings which their Thane had created for the express purpose of having them assist him in carrying heavy loads of treasure; they found the body to be very heavy. The girls busily carried another suite of black armor which was filled with ashes, the kind which the Housecarl had grown very familiar with whenever the Dragonborn chose to unleash storms of lightning.

The Housecarls brought the body and the armor to the east side of Heljarchen Hall, near the base of the library tower where a hidden pair of double doors which were concealed by Illusionary magic was placed into the ground. The hidden doors led to a secondary workshop which their Thane had constructed in recent months where he performed many arcane experiments which Argis and the rest of the Housecarls were happy enough to leave alone for many ghastly things went on down there. Thanks to the magic amulets which they wore, the enchantment which hid the doors were visible to them and they saw it open up from the inside where he caught a glimpse of Lydia who beckoned for them to come in.

After a few moments of struggling to go down the staircase, the Housecarls were able to bring the body and the dust-filled armor downstairs. Having once been ordered to drag one of those giant Dwemer Centurions down the place, it became no problem for them to fit the body through the tunnel and he tried to ignore the Dwarven Armored Guardians who stood in silent repose upon pedestals along the walls which lined the short path leading down, each one wielded in their gauntleted hands, a Dwarven Warhammer which had been imbued with powerful enchantments. Their Thane had in recent times, been delving deeper into the study of even darker magic and the Guardians were fine examples of the Dragonborn's work

Each one of the Guardians had once been some hapless outlaw who had been slain and their master preformed sorcerous experiments on the bodies afterwards. The bodies were now encased within the bronze plates of Dwarven Armor and if one were to remove the helmets, they would find a corpse that would look no different than the Draugr of the barrows. It was something which the Housecarl (and the others as well) personally and rather privately, did not agree with for there were even more kept underneath Heljarchen but their Thane had a strict sense of guidelines which he followed when performing these sorcerous acts which only slightly assuaged their feelings on the matter.

They then entered a stone walled chamber which was as large as the shrine room which it connected to.

'Set it down over there' said Lydia as she pointed to a stone slab which was stained with old Dwarven Oil, other alchemical mixtures and dried blood.

With great effort, the Housecarls placed the body and the dust-filled armor upon the slab where he heard the heavy steps of the other two giant black armored warriors. One of the giant things which had a great, bloody rent across its chest, let out a dreadful moaning sound from underneath its helmet which was amplified even further by unknown, probably magical mean. In the gauntleted hands of both the giants, he saw a heavy, blocky looking weapon that slightly resembled the Crossbows used by the Dawnguard.

'Does anyone else have a bad feeling about this?' spoke Jordis and there was a series of assents from the other Housecarls.

'I think we should get our equipment ready' suggested Valdimar and Argis along with the others all found themselves agreeing as well.

* * *

Through the red lenses of his Mark VI Corvus helmet, Battle Brother Lahar looked upon the building ahead of him. It was a primitive structure which seemed somewhat similar to the architecture of buildings used by the barbarians on worlds like Fenris or other planets where the human populace took inspiration from the ancient warrior raiders of Terra's distant past, long before the time when man even discovered the use of gunpowder weaponry. The bodies of four brother Space Marines were located underneath the building and the only signs of activity which he saw were the lights through the windows.

Through the Vox-unit of his power armour, the Space Marine had received orders to keep his distance and await for reinforcements and so he did. Remembering his time as a Scout, Lahar used the cover of night to quietly move around the hill and survey the building. From what he could see, there were three towers which surrounded the building; each one was covered by a tiled sunroof.

From experience in fighting on planets where the people had regressed to low technology levels, he was not keen with the idea of fighting inside the place for often the simple materials which were used for constructing such dwelling could not handles the weight of a Space Marine in full power armour. More than once on campaigns, he had seen Battle Brothers of his own or other Chapters try to take cover in a relatively undamaged building, only for its floors or stair to collapse underneath them. Lahar himself had on one such occasion, landed upon the roof of a house and had planned to use it to prepare for another jump, but the shoddy carpentry collapsed underneath him and he crashed down two stories and into a basement.

It was not the most glorious moment in his career of serving the Emperor and the escape involved having to use his Jump Pack to smash through the floors and walls of the house to get out. It was fortunate at the time that the civilian population had been evacuated and he imagined that the owner of the home would have been dismayed to return to find at least a dozen large holes that had been smashed through the walls and floors. Again, it was perhaps the most embarrassing experience he ever had as a Space Marine.

After a few minutes of reconnaissance, the Assault Marine could find only one ground entrance into the building. There was also a small shed close by where he could see animal livestock which he recognized as common farm beasts which originated from Holy Terra. Paying little attention to the livestock, he kept his focus on the building and he saw upon the HUD of his helmet that another squad of three other Assault Marines were moving closer to his position.

When they arrived, they would storm the place and cleanse it with bolter and chainsword.

* * *

Around the dining table of the main hall, Eldine and his Housecarls feasted again with ale and wine flowing freely. Over the course of his travels he had developed a habit of hoarding items both perishable and non-perishable nature and among them was a very large amount of alcoholic drinks and food which he stored in enchanted barrels filled with Icewraith Teeth. Still wearing his imbued Dragonscale Armor, he was not alone in his choice of apparel for his companions had also brought out their own equipment, all of which Eldine himself had also forged and enchanted.

The Housecarls all wore icy sets of Stalhrim armor which he had acquired (at a great financial cost) from the Skaal of Solstheim and their weapons were imbued with the enchantments of Frost and Chaos Damage which were further enhanced by the properties of the frozen material itself. The sight of them seemed to set the odd woman, this Thelanria on edge, just in case though, he had prepared the spell, Pacify if weapons were drawn.

Throughout the meal, he had tried to find some way in communicating with the pale woman who certainly looked like a fellow Mer but there was something which he found… off which made him think otherwise. Once more they attempted to communicate with one another in separate, song-like languages which sounded elven in origin. In the end, they had no success before the yellow armored woman then tried something else.

She gestured for him to come closer and he cautiously did so while the Housecarls who were still sworn to protect him, kept watchful eyes on them. He had to admit though that this strange woman was rather beautiful in the way only another elf could manage to attain with angular features, almond shaped eyes and pale skin. Thelanria then placed a rune-etched, gauntleted hand over his head and her palms gently wrapped against his forehead.

Her eyes then began to generate a glow of white light and he felt an oddly comforting presence within his mind. Having trained to develop a strong will over the course of his journey, he allowed whatever magic Thelanria was employing to probe certain parts of his memories. After a mere moment, she let go of him and the Dragonborn felt a momentary sense of dizziness before she began to speak.

'I did not anticipate for your mind to be so strong' said Thelanria as she used the same language spoken by his people in the Summerset Isles but it was said a manner that was heavily accented but understandable at the least.

'And now we can speak to one another' replied Eldine who had seen many strange things during the course of his travels and had learned not to question things too much for the answers often came in time. The Housecarls of course did not understand their speech for he had not bothered to try teaching them but they seemed more relaxed now that the two were just talking.

'We do not have time to talk for the moment, there is a Space Marine outside, watching this place' the Mer-like woman then said.

'Space Marine? You mean those armored giants?' asked Eldine for he found the name curious and he guessed that it was because of their size, they took up too much space like a Dwemer Centurion.

'Yes and I can sense more of them nearby' nodded the woman as she looked to her left, towards the front door.

'Everyone ready your weapons!' commanded Eldine as he switched to the common tongue of the Empire which was spoken throughout Tamriel and the Housecarls obeyed by drawing swords, war axes and maces. Reaching into one of the pouches on the side of his belt, he removed a small runestone which was magically bound to the Guardians of his home. Speaking a spell-word while channeling a small amount of magicka into the runestone, he saw that the symbol which he had etched into it, begin to glow.

Underneath Heljarchen Hall, several suits of Dwarven heavy armor with withered corpses inside of them began to awaken, each one animated by sorcery which the Dragonborn had placed into them. After defeating Miraak, he had taken an interest in the _Thuum_, Bend Will and after some experimenting; he found it to be effective, but something which can be improved upon. He then had an idea which had been born during his previous battles against the Vampires and he had spent much time learning Necromancy from experienced individuals such as Durnehviir, Valerica (who now resided in Castle Volkihar) and even grimoires from the extinct, Order of the Black Worm which he paid a great deal of coin to acquire.

He had created this small, undead army out of perhaps a bit of paranoia for ever since the escalation of the Civil War, he had heard many stories of Imperial or Stormcloak soldiers passing by homesteads and villages under orders to defend these locations. During these occupations, there were many occasions (a number of which he himself could verify) of those same soldiers on both sides who then began taking food, supplies and other valuables from the inhabitants. Thankfully, no one bothered to fully attempt to extort from his home and those who did at least had the common sense to leave the moment they met his Housecarls and their enchanted panoplies.

Unwilling to take any risks, he also ordered Iona and Rayya to head upstairs to the alchemy tower and retrieve as many of the enhancing elixirs as they can carry. If these, "Space Marines" thought that they can try to murder him or his friends in their home then he would be happy to let them try for groups like the Dark Brotherhood had not been so lucky.

* * *

On the HUD of his helmet, Lahar saw the which were synchronized to the power suits of brothers Lorne and Varro move yet he still saw no life signs from them. Could there be some mechanical failure, a glitch in the systems of their power armour? Such things did sometimes happen when the Tech Priests became lax in their work but these were extremely rare occasions. Trying to contact both of his fellow Space Marines, Lahar only heard a pained moaning sound from one while the other said nothing at all.

'We are near your location Brother' came the voice of Assault Sergeant Hakkan over the vox and three arrows appeared on his HUD, pointing at the bottom to signify that they were behind him. He now stood upon the slope of a hill, northwest of the structure and he had seen the tracks of some monstrously large creature. Glancing back, he saw the Corvus Armoured forms of his fellow Assault Marines, each of whom wielded a chainsword and bolt pistol.

'Report brother' commanded Sergeant Hakkan who unusually wore his helmet which was scarred from many battles in close quarters.

'I saw movement from our missing brothers' replied Lahar as he looked back towards the buildings 'of the occupants inside though, I have nothing.'

'All right then, we will go down there and-' said Sergeant Hakkan before the arrows on the HUD which were pointed at Lorne and Varro were moving towards them.

The Assault Squad then saw two familiar, black armoured figures walking side by side not far from the front door with boltguns held in an alert stance. One of the Tactical Marines, Lorne, waved his right hand towards them and the Space Marines cautiously looked towards one another.

'I heading down there, cover me' ordered Sergeant Hakkan before descending the slope and the Assault Squad readied their pistols.

At the back of his mind, Lahar began to think that there was seriously something wrong here and yet, if it was true, then could he bring himself to attack one of his fellow Black Dragons? The Assault Sergeant called to the two men and he began to speak to them but received no response for a moment before Brother Varro aimed his boltgun at Hakkan and fired a fully automatic burst at the surprised sergeant.

Bolt Rounds ripped into the Assault Sergeant's armoured body and each of the explosive shells detonated explosives inside of him while Lorne opened fire upon them, the livestock within the shed began to wildly make panicked sounds. The Assault Marines returned fire with their pistols which struck true against the traitorous Tactical Marines but the two seemed to hardly even register the shots. Activating their Jump Packs, the Assault Marines launched themselves into the air with the two traitors at their intended landing points.

The three Assault Marines landed with a loud stomp upon the ground which caused a slight tremor as Lahar slammed pommel of his chainsword into the helmeted face of Lorne who had a massive hole in the section of his power armour which protected the neck and he saw the wound which would undoubtedly have been fatal, even towards an Astartes. Lorne staggered back without a sound as one of the other Assault Marines drove his chainsword into the gut of Varro who made not a single sound. The third Assault Marine suddenly collapsed to the ground and drawing surprise from Lahar.

Something sharp clattered against his helmet, failing to pierce the ceramite plate and yet he felt an intense pain, like a thousand needles of ice piercing his brain. More of the freezing cold agony flowed within him as other sharp objects clattered against his power armour and he collapsed to one knee. Briefly, he saw what looked to be an arrow head lying upon the snowy ground before his vision began to blacken from the extreme cold.

What the now late, Lahar did not know was that a group of archers, equipped with icy bows that had been imbued with powerful magic were raining arrows down upon the Assault Marines from atop one of the towers. Another of the Assault Marines was bathed in sorcerous flames which burned as hot as a Hellhound's Inferno Cannon and the last was assailed by the two undead Tactical Marines and the Farseer who drove her Witchblade into the side of his stomach while bolt rounds were fired at him from short range.

* * *

Pulling her runic sword out from the black armoured Space Marine, Thelanria allowed the corpse to collapse upon the snowy ground and into the eternal sleep of death. At the doorstep of the building was Eldine whose hands were now wreathed in sorcerous flames. Although the Farseer had engaged in surprise assaults and ambushes in the past, she never imagined being able to perform one as efficiently as this.

The Seer began to feel a measure of respect towards the strength of this Eldine for his own powers would have rivaled that of any senior Farseer who had completely dedicated him or herself into the aggressive applications of the Witch Path. His _Mon'keigh_ companions as well were equipped with weapons which despite being even more primitive than the equipment used by Greenskins, they had proven to be extremely effective due to the potent imbuements within them. It was then that the Farseer realized that perhaps she did not need an army to face these Space Marines who may have been stranded here as well.

All she needed now was to give the right motivation to her newfound companion and in the case of a foe like the Mon'keigh of the Imperium or the minions of Chaos, such a reason would be easy to come by...


	3. Chapter 3

Arcane words escaped the lips of Eldine who focused his gaze upon the slain Space Marines that laid in front of his home and when he had finished, he brought his right hand down towards the ground. An explosion of necromantic energy exploded outwards from him and a cold blue glow of magicka filled the bodies of his former foes. Slowly did the slain giants rise with a moaning sound emanating from underneath their helms and he felt the sorcerous link that had now been established with them.

With a mental command, he had the Dwarven Guardians open the way into his workshop and he marched his newly risen minions towards it. Glancing up to the towers where the Housecarls were, he was relieved to see that everyone was still alive and he raised up a hand to wave at them. Lydia waved back at him and loudly reported that they were all unharmed and Eldine nodded to her before turning his attention back to Thelanria.

The strange, Mer-like woman had removed her helmet and she studied now him with a calm interest.

'Perhaps you now have the time to explain to me exactly who you are and what exactly did we just slay?' asked the Dragonborn more assertively.

'Inside shall be a far more accommodating place for such conversation' replied Thelanria to which Eldine could agree for had he not been wearing his enchanted set of Dragonscale Armor, he would have felt the biting chill wind that was only natural in the colder regions such as The Pale.

With a polite gesture towards the front door, he led his guest back into Heljarchen Hall.

* * *

Anger and the desire for vengeance filled the hearts Force Commander Jarrik of the Black Dragons as he saw the termination of lifesigns from four more Battle Brothers. The campaign on Kiratnus III had been an absolute disaster for the Black Dragons for the traitorous heretics of the Dragon Warriors had been better armed than they had expected. The battle had been fierce as the Chaos forces fought back with corrupted tanks, Daemon Engines, hordes of cultist thralls, traitor guard regiments and even Hellspawn summoned from the Warp itself.

Jarrik was currently inside a spacious cavern formed from a natural rock formation. When he had regained his senses after the bright flash of light, he was immediately attacked by a large predatory feline who had clearly made the cave its den. The Black Dragon Force Commander easily put the beast down with a single chop of his power axe.

The Black Dragons had come to the planet on behalf of the Chapter Master after receiving a missive from the Inquisition. Exactly what it said was unknown to the Force Commander but all he needed to hear was that the Forces of Chaos would be active on the planet. Of course, he had also not counted on the interference from the Eldar witch nor the unknown, xeno ruins that were likely responsible for sending them to, Emperor knows where they are now.

A little less than half of the company had reported in through the Vox-net ever since they had arrived on this cold world, they had lost eight more of their brothers! He had no idea what had slain them and it filled the Force Commander with foreboding to think that the traitors may have arrived on this planet as well. What was important now was that they regrouped and consolidated their position before doing anything else.

Already there were six Battle Brothers who were nearby and more were on the way to his position. Once they had regrouped, they would set about with the task of avenging the deaths of their Battle Brothers recovering their precious wargear and geneseed.

* * *

Sitting by the warm hearth near the front door of the primitive hall, Farseer Thelanria took a polite sip of surprisingly refreshing wine which had been poured into a silver goblet of clear, crude, human-craftsmanship. The odd, Eldar-like male who claimed to be called an Altmer or High Elf from a realm called the Summerset Isle, had patiently listened to her words. Convincing Eldine to fight the Space Marine had been far simpler than she had though for all she needed to do was to simply tell him that which was true.

The Farseer had explained the nature of the so called, Adeptus Astartes, that they were warriors from an empire of religious zealots who commit great acts of genocide to anything that was not human. She had warned that they were highly unlikely to take exception for the people of his world and had made sure to emphasize on the Imperium's irrational hatred towards psykers, sorcerers and magicians of all sorts. Eldine had been quick to realize that in the eyes of the _Mon'keigh_ Imperium, he would be the embodiment of everything they hate for he was what the humans would call a "_Xeno Witch_".

'It seems that I must bring the fight directly to them' announced Eldine in the song-like which they now spoke and Thelanria quietly nodded while feeling a slight sense of satisfaction for she had no doubt that her new-found ally would prove to be a potent one.

'I would advise to exercise a great deal of caution' warned the Farseer of Iyanden. 'Even a single Space Marine can be a terrible foe, their weapons are powerful and their armour is thick and each one is bred purely for the sake of war and war alone.'

'And yet they bleed and what can be bled can be killed' came the confident reply of Eldine as he soon began to have a thoughtful look.

Within the mind of the Altmer, Thelanria could see his thoughts which were soon filled with arcane geometries and alchemical equations. When she had briefly touched the mind of this strange figure to extract the knowledge of his tongue, she had caught glimpses of his life and had seen what he truly was. The Farseer had been reminded of the great legends of heroes like Eldanesh whose deeds were known to all of Eldar-kind and within this individual, she saw a hero whose star shined as bright.

It was all very fascinating to the Farseer who admitted that had she the time, she would like to stay in this strange world called Nirn and uncover its secrets. But first things first she decided for the Space Marines were the immediate threat.

'Do you know how their weapons work?' questioned Eldine.

'I do not and I doubt that not even the Space Marines themselves do' replied the Farseer like many things about the Mon'keigh Imperium, viewed their willful ignorance, superstition and religious dogma in regards to scientific discovery with nothing but disdain. How such stupid barbarians who were little better than orks ever managed to become such a powerful force throughout the Great Wheel was a mystery even to the Farseer.

'Hmm, but surely they understand how to wield them' said Eldine more to himself and a flash of brilliance came into his mind. 'Can you find the knowledge in the minds of the Space Marines we slew?' asked the Altmer.

'I… suppose it could… work' was the skeptic reply of the Farseer for she had in the past, touched the primitive minds of human but had never bothered to attempt such with an dead one, more so one that was clearly a walking corpse.

'Then it is settled, please come with me' spoke Eldine who then offered his hand towards the Seer who gently took it and he helped her up from the crude wooden seat.

Being from Craftworld Iyanden which was rather infamous (and necessarily so) for its use of necromancy, Thelanria had long become desensitized to disturbing the rest of the dead to fight for the living. Of course there was a great deal of difference in disturbing the souls of her dead kin and placing them into Wraith Constructs over raising the very bodies of slain opponents. The only beings the Farseer knew of that engaged in such vile practices were the tainted humans which worshipped the Dark God of Pestilence.

Following Eldine passed a pair of wooden double doors which led into the main hall where the long dining table was placed, she could feel the presence of the human warriors who served him as they cautiously kept their hands close to their weapons. The Seer's host then brought her to a third room where at the corner was a small trapdoor which Eldine easily lifted. Waves of heat emanated from the chamber below and the Farseer crinkled her nose in disdain for there was the strong smell of burnt wood and soot.

With a sigh, the Farseer then held her breath before climbing down the wooden ladder which led down into a dark basement area. When her boots lightly landed on the stone floor of the basement, she spent a moment to survey her surroundings and she could feel several sources of power nearby. There was a rack filled with swords, axes and maces, each filled with a mystical energy while another trio of objects composed of two swords crossed behind a shield were hung in display. What particularly caught the Farseer's attention was a great shrine with eight small altars, curiously though, one altar was left empty with a book left in its place.

'Is that where you pray to your gods?' asked the Farseer towards Eldine whose attention was focused upon a wall across the shrine which had glowing runes etched upon it.

Eldine gently turned his eyes towards the Seer's own and she had to admit that she found his presence to be… intriguing, in a rugged sort of way.

'It is a shrine to the Eight Divines' explained Eldine with a slight smile 'I honestly do not use it much but my companions do.'

'Eight?' asked the Thelanria with suspicion.

'Aye Eight' nodded Eldine 'Akatosh, Dibella, Arkay, Julianos, Stendarr, Kynareth, Mara and Zenithar'

'I see, yet there is one over there with a tome placed upon it' said the Farseer.

'A reminder' shrugged Eldine in a matter of fact manner 'the book is called The Talos Mistake.'

The Farseer quickly deduced that this Talos must be some other deity, one which she presumed was a being whose worship was forbidden. With a name like that, she would hardly be surprised if this Talos was not some darkling deity. Eldine then turned his attention back to the rune-etched door and after performing a series of intricate patterns, it began to rumble and the arcane lights of the runes died down and the stone began to pull backwards.

'My father used to own a manor in a town called Anvil' explained Eldine 'it's previous occupant was a Necromancer who hid his… experiments in the basement.'

From where the stone wall had once stood, there was now an entrance which led to a wide chamber where a great stone slab lay in the center. For a moment, the Farseer instinctively reached for her Witchblade when she caught sight of the armoured forms of Space Marines and she was quick to remind herself that these ones were those under the control of her companion. The undead Astartes let forth a low moan that was amplified by their helmets as each one still clutched their powerful weapons.

'You there, come forward' called Eldine towards one of the walking corpses which bore the armor of one of the rank and file Space Marines and the human jogged towards them. 'Remove your helmet' commanded Eldine and the undead human obeyed by shouldering his boltgun and placing both of his gauntleted hands over his helmet. A soft hiss of escaping air was heard and Farseer did her best to hide her disgust.

The undead Space Marine was a savage, bald headed, horned brute whose skin had become very pale in death and eyes that were now milky white. The Space Marine had been the one she had just slain and the armoured human's body was riddled with detonated bolters along with the stab from her witchblade which had been further imbued with psychic energy. Giving a cautious look to Eldine, he nodded and gave a reassuring look and the Farseer raised her right arm up so that her hand could touch Space Marine's forehead and she began to reach into the corpse's mind.

To the Farseer's surprise, she was able to find some intact memories within the mind of the dead Space Marine. She caught glimpses of the human's life, of the countless battles he had fought and the horrors he had faced. The Farseer's disdain for the race of Men and towards the Space Marines in particular only deepened for she found a being not that different from an ork, a creature whose sole purpose was only destruction and was incapable of contributing anything that could be considered, even by a lesser species, meaningful.

From the memories of the slain Space Marine, the Farseer extracted the technical knowledge on the maintenance and operation of human technology. There was also some rather intriguing information regarding the Astartes sect which the human had come from, the Black Dragons as they called themselves which could prove useful for the Craftworld of Iyanden if they ever faced these particular _Mon'Keigh_ again. When the Farseer finished, she disconnected her mind from that of the human who continued to stare at her with blank, dead eyes.

'Is it done?' asked Eldine with a concerned look.

'I have acquired that which I have sought' nodded the Farseer.

'I will gather my Housecarls' said Eldine 'I am sure they will enjoy using these new weapons'.

* * *

The two moons, Masser and Secunda hung high within the night sky and the howls of both wolves and the wind could be heard across the frozen plains. Underneath the starlit sky, the blazing campfires and the torches of the Imperial Legion were the only thing that gave them any sense of warmth. For those soldiers who had been born in the other provinces or were not of Nordic blood, the biting cold was made even worse by the choice of attire which the soldiers of the Empire were garbed in.

It has been a long and difficult campaign for the soldiers of the Imperial Legion, especially among those who neither were from the land of Skyrim nor were of Nord blood. The freezing cold of this harsh land had proven to be an just as much an enemy as the rebel Stormcloaks. Shivering hands that were protected by simple bracers of leather or steel were raised close to the flames which men huddled by while tightly clutching blankets for warmth.

Near the center of the camp was large tent where the pained voices of injured soldiers could be heard as their bodies were wrapped in stained bandages. The smell of blood, pus and infection filled the camp's triage as tired healers whose skill lay in alchemy did their work for none within the camp were particularly skilled in the magic of Restoration. Over the course of the war, both Imperials and Stormcloaks had learned the importance of slaying first the magical healers who could bring the wounded back from the brink of death, as such any of those who practiced the art of Restoration tended to be the ones targeted by archers.

The sight of this all just screamed weakness in the bright yellow eyes of Kruzah gra-Bagkar as she sharpened a dagger upon a handheld whetstone while seated upon the stump of a tree with her own tent pitched nearby. Clad from toe to neck in a masterfully forged suit of the local variation of Orcish Armor, her helmet was set next to her along with her shield and other weapons. Like many of her kind, the Orsimer, Kruzah had found employment in the Imperial Legion but not as an actual full time Legionnaire but as a mercenary auxiliary.

Having been drawn to this land by tales of the ongoing conflict between the Imperials and the Nords along with the overall rise of lawlessness and brigandage, the realm of Skyrim had become quite the figurative gold mine to those who were not afraid to engage in bloody business practices and indeed. For months, Kruzah had hunted bandits, giants, protected merchant caravans and cleared out dens of wild animals, hagravens, undead along with other monsters. Of course the rewards for all of those paled in comparison to what the Legion and the Rebels were offering for both groups were in dire need of the extra manpower.

Within the last week, Kruzah had fought in over a dozen skirmishes with the Stormcloaks and had taken part in an all out assault against a Nord garrison that occupied a seemingly abandoned fortress. The battle had been fierce and bloody with the Legion eventually being forced to retreat. Defeat was not something which the orc sell-sword found to her liking but for one of her occupation, she never would have lived long without knowing when one should make a stand or when one should withdraw.

All that had been left of the regiment Kruzah had been assigned to were now nothing more than a collection of scared and wounded men who now lacked direction for the Tribune who previously led them had died in the last battle. The Nords had been changing their tactics and equipment as of late for they now had powerful companies of heavy infantry who were equipped with suits of Corundum infused Steel Plate or Scale armor. Some of them even carried powerful steel and quicksilver weapons and armor with the latter being forged in resemblance to bears.

These new heavy infantry troops had equipment that was far more superior than those used by the Imperial Legionnaires which in turn, allowed the armored rebels to take on larger groups of enemies. No doubt that in the minds of the Imperial soldiers, more than a few were already contemplating the idea of deserting into the night, especially when many of the commanding officers were now dead. While the idea of cutting loose and making a run for it was quite tempting to the mercenary, Kruzah knew that if she did so then like any other deserters, would be branded as an outlaw who would expect to face either execution or a very, very hefty fine plus a lengthy incarceration.

The best thing to do now decided the orc mercenary was to head back to Solitude with what troops were left and call it quits over there. While brooding over these thoughts, she began to sniff the frozen air for a strange scent had been picked up. It was a strange and foul smell that was an odious mixture of metal, oil, blood, spoilt man-flesh and something else that was sickly sweet.

A loud cry of scream echoed throughout the darkness and all heads were turned towards the source. Quickly placing her dagger within its sheath on the side of her right boot, the orc mercenary grabbed her, war axe which she attached to the left sied of her belt while placing her sheathed sword upon her back along with a an orcish bow and a quiver filled with orichalcum arrows. Finally, the orc sell-sword then picked up her helmet which had been cooled by the snow and she placed it over her head.

Kruzah then equipped her mace and shield before standing up to face this new threat. The remaining Imperial Legionnaires quickly looked about, their eyes were wide with alarm as they held onto their swords or bows. Mists of cold breath escaped the lips of all within the camp as the howling winds continued to batter against them.

The sell-sword narrowed her eyes while carefully trying to pick out any irregularities among the gloom and for a brief moment, she caught sight of something that soared through the air. Landing with a loud wet crunch upon the snow, the Imperial soldiers gasped in shock to see that it was a bloodied corpse with its limbs and head shorn off. The tattered remnant of an Imperial Legion uniform was worn over the grisly torso and a loud, animalistic screeching sound was heard.

The last things which many of the Imperial Legionnaires saw was a red, scale armored giant with baleful green eyes and two mighty claws crackled with lightning. Their screams were soon drowned out by the howl of the cold winds as the white snow ran red…

* * *

With a cautious glance towards her Thane, Lydia saw Eldine give a quiet nod and a soft smile that seemed somewhat reassuring. Having become no stranger to some of her master's sorcerous experiments, the Housecarl acquiesced to whatever magic the other elf mage was performing. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, the Housecarl soon felt the touch armored fingers upon her forehead which was soon followed by a strange, warm sensation.

Within her mind, Lydia saw strange images of places, cities of steel that rose even higher than the Throat of the World. She saw the image of a young boy who lived in a place of shadows and filth, surrounded by walls of iron, a place where the light of the sun never even touched. Then there were the images of the giant, black armored giants like the ones that had recently attacked Heljarchen Hall.

The image shifted again and she saw the boy who now stood in an arena along with hundreds of other youths, all of whom clutched crude swords, spears and cudgels. Nervous, fearful looks were exchanged between the boy and another lad who looked to even be younger than him and then came the sound of trumpets. All eyes in the arena were then turned to one of the black giants whose armor was decorated with gold.

The giant of black and gold then began to speak about honor, of sacrifice and duty to their Emperor who definitely was not Titus Mede and how by their actions today, the throng of boys would rise to glory. The lead speaker then told them that the path ahead would be a long and brutal one where only the strongest survived and to make their first step in service to their Emperor, they needed to prove their strength by fighting one another to the death. Horror began to fill the heart of the Housecarl as the arena erupted in an orgy of violence and death as hundreds of youths, enough to populate an entire city, began to murder one another.

'_This is what will happen to your world if they succeed, human_' came a distant feminine voice that surely must have belonged to the elf sorceress '_the people of your world will become slaves to the will of a tyrant who would gladly murder his own subjects.'_

Lydia then saw the boy stand victorious over a pile of the dead, where once there were hundreds, now only a few dozen remained, each spattered with blood and covered in deep gashes. The image shifted once more and this time she saw the boy lying upon a metal table, he screamed in agony as cutting machines like those used by the Dwemer, sliced open the boy's flesh while extracting organs before putting in new ones. The Horror which she felt only deepened for who could devise such monstrous and inhuman practices?

More passed through the Housecarl's mind and with each one, she grew to fear and hate the thing which the black armored giants represented. This Imperium which they served was far, far worse than anything the Thalmor and the Aldmeri Dominion could be for in this, Imperium, all she saw was death and ruin.

'_Not all is lost_' spoke the voice of the sorceress again and this time, Lydia saw the images of the weapons which these giants, these Space Marines wielded.

Knowledge of how to use and operate these devices which were far more advanced than the comparatively simple crossbows of the Dawnguard filled the brain of the Housecarl and with it was an understanding of its workings. These Astartes and their Imperium had no place in Nirn, they were as malevolent and terrible as any Daedra. The images in her mind then began to fade along with the presence of the sorceress before finally, everything was darkness once more…

* * *

Watching the exchange with interest as he sat on a wooden chair by the main dining table, Eldine saw the eyes of his Steward slowly open. For a moment, there was a look of confusion, a daze that was soon followed by recognition of where she was.

'Is that it?' asked the Dragonborn with curiosity for it had only been a few seconds since Thelanria fingers touched the forehead of Lydia.

'I have learned enough, my Thane' spoke the Housecarl in a stern and determined voice.

With a nod, Eldine then reached for one of the mechanical swords which the Space Marines had carried and he handed it to the Housecarl while the others gave curious looks to them from around the room. Lydia then took the weapon in one hand and she spent a moment to study it before she pressed something along the handle. The mechanical blade then began to vibrate and roar with the small teeth on the sides moving on their own.

A slight smile began to spread upon the Dragonborn's face for now that his Steward understood how to wield these devices, then the others could also learn. He then began to wonder what sort of enchantments he could place on such things as well…

* * *

Blood, sweet warm blood spattered the power armour of Karanor as he gutted a weak mortal wearing simple and primitive leather armour before backhanding another with enough force to reduce to the reduce the little man's ribcage into dust. Simple sword and arrows struck against the Warp infused Ceramite plates of the Raptor who killed and killed with reckless abandon for they might as well have been trying to destroy a fortress with a wooden stick. He had no idea who these mortals were but he cared little except for the amusement which would be had by slaughtering them like livestock.

He tore the head off of another mortal before pulling off the arms of another and he allowed the gush of gore to further coat his armor. The Raptor was unsure exactly where he was and all he knew was that he was definitely on some other planet. He decided that when he had finished glutting himself with this massacre, he would try to use the Vox-unit of his power armour again and have another attempt at contacting his brothers.

Until then he thought with devilish glee as she stomped his right boot down on the head of the human who had tried to crawl away, he felt the satisfying crunch as he reduced the man's skull into a pile of mush. This was just as the Raptor always enjoyed his slaughters, with plenty of targets and wholly one sided. Eventually, the mortals began to flee from the Raptor who gave a wicked laugh of contempt at how weak mere humans truly were and he felt glad to have transcended such a pitiful state long ago.

Soon the camp became silent for the only living thing that remained was the Raptor himself. Boot prints on the snow could be seen by the Raptor who grinned underneath his helmet for it had been a while since he conducted a proper hunt. Eager to see if his tracking skills were still what he remembered them to be, he then heard his suit's vox-unit come to life.

'-peat, all –nits are- to –regro- at- cation!' came the voice over the vox there belonged to their leader, the Chaos Lord Muorgais the Immolater.

A slight frown of disappointment came to the lips of the Chaos Raptor who knew that he had to obey. Giving one last look to the trail upon the snow that was more than quite literally, growing cold, he activated his Jump Pack and he flew up into the sky. Soaring through the air on wings of fire, Karanor felt that the name of his warband, the Dragon Warriors was quite fitting for a warrior like him.


End file.
